


Forty

by wyntera



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A la sniping, M/M, McHanzo Week, McHanzo Week 2017, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 14:52:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11233293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntera/pseuds/wyntera
Summary: McHanzo Week Day 1 Prompt: Morning//NightIn geography, antipodes are two locations on the exact opposite side of the Earth from each other. The distance doesn't stop McCree from being McCree. Also, Hanzo makes a new friend.





	Forty

Working as a sniper involves scaling a lot of high structures and finding any number of hidden and secluded spots, the sorts of places people and omnics typically do not frequent. These same places that make the best sniper perches also happen to make the best homes for all manner of critters. As such, Hanzo has met his fair share of animals in his day. Often squirrels, very often rats and mice. Innumerable insects. The intermittent odd companion like a raccoon or a fox. On one memorable occasion he spent a week in the near-constant company of a box turtle. He named the fellow Walter.

By and far, though, Hanzo works in the presence of birds. Any ninja worth their salt can make themselves so invisible and unobtrusive that even the most skittish of birds will remain calm and still. And as a sniper he has spent hours on end hardly moving but to breathe as birds flit about around his position, or perch on his shoulders, or occasionally try and nest in his quiver. There are downsides, of course; Hanzo now knows the exact process for washing bird droppings from his clothes. And his hair. On the plus side, dust and feathers rarely tickle his nose anymore, and morning birdsong never wakes him too early.

He has shared roofs with bluebirds, robins, cardinals, and finches. Doves and starlings, ravens and crows. Buzzards and hawks, martins and swallows. Sparrows, and a Sparrow. Even an owl or two.

But Hanzo has never seen this bird before.

Athena tells him it is a Kereru, endemic of New Zealand. A relative of the pigeon, she says, and he can see the resemblance but the size difference is impressive. The bird perched on the ledge in front of him is nearly two feet long and plump. So plump and round that Hanzo can only see its pinkish-orange feet when it waddles a few tiny steps to adjust position. The chest feathers are white while those along its back and wings are a shiny green-purple mottled mixture with a bronze sheen that catches the scattered lights on the street down below. Atop its big body sits a little head, tiny and oddly proportioned in a way that makes its body all the bigger.

The eyes are a bright coral. He knows because the kereru has been staring at him for about twenty minutes. 

Hanzo cannot help but wonder what the bird is doing in the middle of Auckland. There are certainly no other kererus flying around or roosting nearby. And it is a bit chilly for a bird to be out and about at this time of night. He tried to see if there was a nest on the rooftop but nothing seems out of place. Just Hanzo, the kereru, and the billboard they are hiding behind.

The billboard has two spotlights pointed directly at it to light up the advertisement, something about the upcoming mayoral election. It has a portrait of a man on the other side not too dissimilar looking from the kereru, Hanzo thinks. Eyes too wide, head abnormally small. But Hanzo can admit his assessment might be unjust. He never did care for politics.

Hanzo has been holding position for going on six hours, body relaxed and eyes steady on the building across the street. There is a wide boulevard between the two positions, a central thoroughfare of shops and offices. A small theater is open down the sidewalk. Periodically couples or small groups head into or leave from there, or the smattering of bars. But Hanzo keeps his gaze focused. No distractions.

Other than his kereru friend. It shuffles again, two steps closer, and settles.

A chime sounds from his earpiece and Hanzo is immediately on alert, body going tense. Still, the kereru only ruffles its feathers when Hanzo raises a hand to switch it on. “Shimada here.”

_ “Howdy there, darlin’.” _

Hanzo is smiling before he can even think to stop himself, and up on this roof with only the kereru to see he lets the smile stay. “Jesse,” he greets, making sure to keep his voice low and even so it will not carry to the street.

_ “You busy?” _

“Still waiting. Is anything wrong?”

_ “Naw, mission is still a-go, no changes.” _

“Just calling to check up on me, then?” Hanzo asks. It would not be the first time. For all Jesse espouses that they are both skilled and capable and that Hanzo is a grown man that can take care of himself on a mission, he still worries like a mother hen when Hanzo has to go alone. The first few times Jesse called like this Hanzo did not react well, thinking the other man doubted his abilities, that he expected failure. Then they talked, and he learned what it really meant. Just another one of the ways Jesse expresses how much he cares.

Hanzo is rather fond of it now.

_ “I’m sure you’re doin’ fantastic as always, sugarplum,”  _ Jesse assures, as he always does. He is probably just glad Hanzo was not out of breath from running for his life when he reached out.  _ “But I wanted to be the first to call.” _

“The first to call?”

_ “It’s midnight.” _

Hanzo frowns, glancing down at his watch. It just ticked over to midnight in Auckland not half a minute ago. But what does that matter? It is not like Jesse to be cryptic. “So?”

There is a small pause, and then Jesse begins to sing.

_ “Happy birthday to you...happy birthday to you…” _

Hanzo breaks the stable hold he has had on his posture for the whole evening to slump down against the post of the billboard and cover his embarrassed grin with a hand. That sweet rumbling baritone does things to him, always has and always will, and damn Jesse McCree, he knows his singing flusters Hanzo terribly. The kereru does not give him any flak for the bright red blush that covers his face or the goosebumps that break out on his exposed arm. He supposes he should take back the rude thoughts about the bird’s appearance.

_ “Happy birthday, my darlin’ Hanzo,”  _ Jesse croons soft in his ear. Hanzo can hear him smiling around the words.  _ “Happy birthday, to you.” _

He draws out the last syllable and puts a little flair to it, making Hanzo laugh. Dropping his hand back to his bow he shakes his head. “Thank you, that was lovely,” he says. “I forgot.”

_ “Forgot? Or just chose not to remember?”  _ Jesse asks knowingly.  _ “Ain’t every day someone turns the big four-oh.” _

Oh. He really had forgotten. Mostly. It is not like anyone really wants to turn forty. “Jesse,” Hanzo complains half-heartedly. “It is just another day.”

They had vaguely discussed this last year, if memory serves. Hanzo had not really celebrated a birthday since he left Hanamura all those years ago. He did not need a bunch of frivolous celebrations just to mark the passing of another year. And while Jesse was understanding enough of Hanzo’s reasons, he simply could not let the day pass without doing something. Luckily they were new enough in their relationship at the time that breakfast-in-bed courtesy of one Jesse McCree and a day exploring each other on nearly every surface of Hanzo’s rooms was more than present enough. The memory still makes Hanzo curl the toes of his prosthetics in delight.

In the here and now Jesse lets out a scoff that nearly tickles his ear.  _ “Just another day? Listen to you, think you’re so funny. This is an important day, Hanzo! It is the fortieth anniversary of the day the Universe, in all it’s glory, deemed the rest of us poor sinners worthy--” _

“Have you been drinking?”

_ “--of your glorious and gorgeous self, and no, mister smarty-pants, I ain’t had a drop. It’s only one in the afternoon.” _

Hanzo does some quick mental math. “It is not even my birthday in Gibraltar yet.”

_ “But it is in New Zealand. And you best believe I’ll call again when it’s midnight here and sing to you all over again, sweetheart.” _

How did he end up with this unbelievable man? “You speak like that, I am going to fall in love all over again,” Hanzo replies. Jesse chuckles and begins to say something else but movement from across the street catches Hanzo’s eye. “Hold.”

Jesse falls silent. He knows that means Hanzo has action on his side of the communicator. Sharp eyes watch the window where the light flicked on, motion on the other side of sheer curtains. He edges forward and braces himself, drawing an arrow in preparation. Everything falls away--the drunks spilling out of the bar four buildings down, the car not yielding as it enters the roundabout, the dull ambulance siren in the distance. He pulls back the tension on the bow and takes aim. The kereru next to him softly coos.

_ “Damn, darlin’, even your breathin’ sounds sexy when you’re sniping.” _

He smirks as he lets the arrow go, sailing silently through the air, through the curtains, and through the chest of one of Talon’s main financial backers. From this distance Hanzo cannot hear the fall of his body hitting the carpet. Reassuringly he also hears no accompanying scream of witnesses. The kereru did not move an inch.

Time to go.

“Target neutralized,” Hanzo says, storing his bow in his guitar case and straightening his clothing.

_ “Sexiest sniper in any time zone, sugar.” _

Hanzo stands and gives his little bird friend a wave before heading to the maintenance latter on the other side of the building. “If Tracer is ready with the transport I should be back in time for you to sing to me in person.”

_ “Now ain’t that the best thing I’ve heard all day. She’ll meet you at the rendezvous point. Oh, and uh…”  _ Jesse drops the volume of his voice and sounds almost apologetic.  _ “Maybe it’s not exactly in the spirit of things, but I know how you are and thought it best to give you fair warning. Genji’s got an over-the-hill surprise party planned out for when you get back.” _

His hands nearly falter on the handles and he pauses to roll his eyes skyward. “What?”

_ “Come on, Han, he’s been plannin’ this for weeks. He’s got a load of black streamers and balloons and a right hilarious cake, honest, you’re goin’ to laugh no matter how irritated you are, you’ll have to admit it’s clever. And Mei and Satya helped him decorate, so you know we’ve been putting up with Miss Perfection herself ordering us around all mornin’ telling us that our bows aren’t at perfect angles and all that bullshit. And I picked out the food personally so I know it’ll be somethin’ you really like.” _

Hanzo starts down the ladder, suspicious. “What did you pick?”

_ “Only way to find out is to come to the party,”  _ Jesse replies.

“I will be quite tired when I return,” Hanzo tries, already knowing it is useless. His ability to say no to Jesse has weakened significantly ever since they started seeing each other. But still, he will actually be tired. As a...forty year old.

Jesse hums theatrically as if to think that over.  _ “I suppose I couldn’t tempt you with a present, then,”  _ he says, turning coy.  _ “Though I think it will top last year.” _

A delicious shiver runs up Hanzo’s spine. Well. Maybe he can be convinced. Forty’s not  _ that  _ old. He drops the last few feet to the alley floor and sets out toward the rendezvous point at a jog. “I did like last year.”

_ “I thought you did,”  _ Jesse says, grin back in his voice.  _ “Let me know when you’re on board?” _

“I will. Love you.”

_ “Love you, too, birthday boy.” _

Hanzo flicks off the communicator and strolls out of the alley onto the sidewalk like he belongs there. Overhead a bird glides by, long wings letting it sail over the sparsely populated street. Hanzo has two blocks to walk, a bus to catch, and then another two blocks to where Lena waits with transport. Then a relaxing flight back home.

When he catches himself humming Happy Birthday, he starts to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like that and want more, want to check out my art, or just want to chat, come on by my tumblr! You can find me under username wyntera. And if twitter is more your game, come and join me there, just look for @ThreeCatDesigns.
> 
> And hey. Thanks.


End file.
